Replaced
by Liriell
Summary: Jane never thought that she would ever come to regret replacing Anne Boleyn, but this was exactly the case. Anne/Henry mentioned.


**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Replaced<strong>

Anne Boleyn was a controversial woman, one can say what they wanted about her, but no one can deny that she was probably one of the shrewdest women in England. She would go down in history, as the woman who had bewitched the King of England, the commoner who soared up to the most powerful woman in England and the catalyst for the English Reformation.

One can say many things about her, and she may have hated her for leading England away from the true faith and being the enemy of Christendom, but Jane had always envied her in a way. She never showed it, but she was envious of that woman.

Anne was the exact opposite of her, she knew that. Anne was fierce, intelligent and bold. She was different from the women in the English Court and she wondered whether this was the reason why she caught the eyes of the king. But either way, the thing is, she did and unlike the other mistresses before her, she managed to keep his attention, maybe one can even go as far as to saying making him fall in love with her. After all, there was enough proof to show how far the king would go, to please her and what other explanation would there be, but love?

For her, King Henry broke with Rome, tore his kingdom apart and everything just to be with her.

Yes, Jane was definitely envious of her. She wanted all of that, a man who loved her so much that he would sacrifice everything, to be the center of attention and the target of jealousy.

She was so utterly ecstatic, when the King first began to show interest in her. She lavished the attention he bestowed upon her, the sweet presents he gave her and the sweet words she received. They made her feel so special and even more so, when he began to forsake Anne in favor of her. To think that she was rivaling with the woman, who had enthralled the King for so long, for his affection and even winning, was marvelous.

It made her so happy.

But human are gluttonous, especially when it came to love and as time passed, she began to crave for more, she wanted to spend more time with him, she wanted to show everyone that she was the one he loved. She wanted his **complete** love.

And so, her envy over the Queen began to turn into jealousy. Why was it that the woman was allowed to be affectionate with the King in public, that she was his legal wife and that it was only natural for her to share his bed with him, when she could not?

Jane wanted to be Anne; she wanted to be the one in the position of the Queen, the woman the King loved.

So, she waited. She waited and waited, for the moment to arise where she finally reached the goal she had so long desired. The place next to him.

It was no surprise that the day of Anne's execution was the best day of her life. In Jane's opinion, it was nothing she did not deserve. They were both getting what they deserved, actually. Jane, the love she had been deprived of and Anne, the execution, even if not as a witch. Though Jane never forgot the most important thing, Anne was _gone_. She was finally out of her way, and finally, she could be together with the man she began to fall in love with. His complete devotion belonged to her now and no one else. From then on, she was sure that only happy memories would follow after.

Jane was assured that Henry loved her. In order to be with her, he had his former wife beheaded and the people loved her, something Anne never managed to achieve. This knowledge gave her so much pride and only added the enormous joy she already felt. Soon, she would be pregnant, her happiness complete, especially when she bore Henry his long-awaited son. Jane was assured that she would complete where her predecessors failed, after all, unlike Katherine of Aragon, despite the great woman she was, could not keep his love to her alone and Anne, who may had had his majesties love, buff failed to win the people around her.

She even managed to get Henry reconcile with his two daughters and she was sure that it made him love her even more.

Yes, she was not like the women before her, she would not let his love slip away from her; she would make sure of that. Why would he want another? Jane, after all, made sure that she was the perfect wife. She was obedient, modest and never meddled in his affairs, unlike Anne did, because, in her opinion, this is what made Henry turn away from her.

For Anne was not the perfect wife. She was not appropriate.

And every night, where Henry held her in his arms, while they slipped into sleep, she reminded herself that this had been Anne's place and that she managed to replace her. Then, she would drift into sweet dreams with a content smile on her face. Not a day passed where this thought did not cross her mind, when they were walking through the garden, when he talked to her, during dinners or when he just simply pulled her into his arms, buried his face in her hair and kissed her.

And time could not pass sooner than when you are the most happy.

However, everything has to end someday and there is a reason why time is claimed to be love's death. In a beginning of a relationship, everything is bright and you look through rose-colored glasses, but times take away your bliss and make you slowly see things as they are.

And this is what happened to Jane.

Time took her rose-colored glasses off her and she began to see things she had not before, moments and small details which she would have dismissed or just ignored seemed now to speak volumes to her. And they were not something she wanted to hear.

No, Jane hated them.

At first, Jane tried to brush it off as nothing, pretend as if those things were not real, only by her imagination and paranoia. She tried to tell herself that Henry loved her, and only her. Anne Boleyn was not there, she was dead and Henry felt nothing for his last wife, only contempt. The faraway looks in his eyes, when he holds her did not mean that he was thinking of Anne. She would tell herself that the silence, woken by slightest mention of her, did not make her heart ache, for it was not a show of his regret.

Oh, there were a lot of things Jane had tried to ignore.

Like that time, when she was lying in his bed. She had craved for his presence and thus wanted to wait there for him. She could remember that she had been terribly tired; she wrapped her arms around the pillow, one hand digging under the feathered cushion. She had felt her hand met a cold piece of metal. Confused, she took the pillow away and revealed the sight of a small ship lying on the bed with a diamond attached to it. A small fear crept into her mind, scarred from who it was and even more if her suspicions were met with the truth. But it seemed that God was not willing to let her live in denial of the origin of this small ship, since there was also a letter next to its place. The date and the initials AB were enough to let her know from who it was from.

But again, she decided to turn away and see nothing, when it is everything.

Maybe, Henry had just forgotten that they lied there, because he did not care for them.

But truth to be told, when more time passed and as the rush of their beginning love was dying down, not even she can lie to herself anymore. For no matter how good of an actress she was, she could not pretend to **not** see the way the way he looked at her and see the desire in his eyes, meant for another woman, the way he took a few strands of her blonde hair in his fingers and then let go it again, as if it burned him, just because it was the wrong color.

But most of all, she could not pretend to hear him whisper her name; when in reality, he whispered another.

_Anne_.

Did he even notice it the first time it slipped his lips? For if he did, he clearly did not show and thus, they both pretended as if the moment which had passed only few seconds ago, never existed. How embarrassing, to speak the wrong name, a name of a woman who was lying meters under the surface. After that, he took her in his arms, but she had her back faced to him for the first time since their marriage was consumed. Jane did not want to face him, nor want him to see how her eyes welled with tears.

She felt his lips on her neck and again, she felt that familiar longing of both of them. Him, wishing it was someone else and her, wishing he would not.

Jane closed her eyes.

It was funny in a way; it seemed that no matter what happened to her, whether dead or alive, she was still able to besot the King. Her firm hold on him was stronger than ever, his heart still belonged to her. Jane did not doubt that Henry loved her and their future son; it was just that he would love Anne more. She was a true home wrecker, even in her death she was still able to destroy marriages, and at some times, Jane felt like her ghost was hanging over them, laughing and pointing at the two of them, as though they were jesters to entertain her.

But to tell the truth, Jane felt like laughing, too.

She was finally where she wanted to be, she had finally replaced Anne Boleyn. But how come that no one told her how great the sacrifice was nor how little satisfaction it would give her? After all, the saying, be careful what you wish for, turned to be justified. She had replaced Anne Boleyn in his life in so many ways, she was the one gracing his bed, soon bearing his child and the woman next to her, when he looked at her, he would look at longingly at her, he would call her sweetheart and Jane knew, he meant it, for he did not see herself, but **his sweetheart.** If this was not replacing, that she did not know what it was.

The END

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><p>AN: Okay, I know that this might be quite a stretch, but I always wanted to make a One-Shot with Jane or with Henry over the death of Anne. I loved Anne and I could not believe that Henry ditched her for a plain Jane, no matter how nice she was. And so, I made a little fanfic about how she and even Henry regrets the choice a little bit. Please, tell me what you think about it. If it's not a flame I can accept anything :)

xoxo


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